


And In Spite Of All I Should Have Done

by revenblue



Series: [collection] but you keep spinning 'round me just the same [11]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13154682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: You hadn't expected to show up.





	And In Spite Of All I Should Have Done

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [This Is Me Pretending This Is All I Need](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13125960) by [revenblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue). 



> Got inspired last night, so merry Christmas (again), have some _fluff_.  
>  ~~It's still the 25th in PST, albeit barely.~~
> 
> Sequel/companion piece to my Christmas angst (This Is Me Pretending This Is All I Need), references some of the events of that.

Sometimes you hate your job.

Normally it's not so bad, despite the paperwork and the overtime and the stingy pay and the having to work on your days off and the _secrecy_... Okay, there's a lot to be annoyed about. But you don't let it bother you, except when it means you miss Christmas too.

You flex your paws, tightening your grip on the steering wheel as you drive home.

It's not just an arbitrary day, for you. It's your favourite day of the year. The snow, and the presents, and the _joy_... You love it all. And you love the people you'd be spending it with, if you hadn't been called away on a mission.

Thwarting evil is an important job, someone has to do it, you just wish it wasn't always _you_.

Don't you deserve some actual time off once in a while? Time you could spend with your family, actually seeing what the boys build in person for once.

Or your nemesis.

The expression on his face when he'd yelled at you to "leave, forever, and never come back" is still burned into your memory, broken and scared and _hurting_ and trying to cover it all with anger the way he always does.

You're not proud of how you'd reacted. What made you think it'd be a good idea to turn around and walk away, like you hadn't trained yourself out of avoidance after all? You thought you were better than that. You _should_ be better than that. Heinz deserves you at your best, not the you that gives in to your base instincts. He deserves a nemesis, a _friend_ , who won't run away the minute things get tough. But instead he has you and your failings.

The worst part is, he probably thinks you've abandoned him. Again. You haven't, you _can't_ , but how's he supposed to know that?

It aches to think about, that he's hurting because of your mistakes, that it's because you'd been too scared to stay. Terrified, in the face of vulnerability. You have to be better than that.

Maybe that's why you're _here_ , you think, staring up at the sign above you. _Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated_. You hadn't even noticed yourself changing direction, but of course you'd find your way _here_ of all places. It's automatic now, you don't even have to think about it, you know the way like it's engraved into your paws.

You notice yourself tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, a habit you're sure you picked up off him, and force yourself to stop. Nervousness won't help. And neither will sitting here doing nothing, so you jump out and start the long trek up to his penthouse.

The elevator's working today, for once. You take the stairs anyway, two at a time, in an attempt to burn off some of the anxious energy.

Frustratingly, it doesn't work. Your paws are still shaking when you knock on his door, no matter how much you try to control them. So much for being a bastion of emotional stability.

No answer. Even the sound of his muttering to himself stops at your knock.

The hallway feels oppressively warm as you wait, the artificial light searing your eyes the way the snow outside didn't, and it's not long at all until you can't stand any more. You take a deep breath, pushing aside the worry that slipped through despite your best efforts, and kick down the door.

"Look who finally decided to _show up_ ," he says, from where he's slumped against the wall, in full view of the doorway you're standing in. His voice is strained, like he's barely holding himself together, and that's worse than his usual aimless fury. "Here I thought you'd finally come to your senses and _left_."

The way he says it, like _you leaving_ was a foregone conclusion, hurts more than fighting him ever did.

You cross the room, excruciatingly aware of his gaze on you, and reach out to wrap your shaky paws around his hand. It's an apology, of sorts. Apologising for the leaving and the not coming back and everything else you've ever done that's left that haunted look in his eyes, and you should have done this _sooner_.

The last few days have been hectic, evil scientists all over the place, but you should have made time for him. You _could_ have made time for him. It's not like the world will end if all the shoes in the Tri-State Area are suddenly a size smaller. Maybe _then_ he'd be able to believe you care, deep down where you know his insecurities gnaw at him.

"Perry the Platypus," he whispers, and stops. His breath hitches and then he's pulling you close, body shaking against you as he runs his fingers through your fur like he can't believe you're real, and you can't tell if he's shivering or sobbing or _both_ but it doesn't matter when you're here to hold him, when you're tucked in tight against his chest and listening to his frantic heartbeat and you _missed him_.

It's all you could wish for on Christmas.

After a few minutes, you hear his voice again. "Remember that mug you gave me," he says quietly, like he's terrified of your response. "The 'best nemesis' one. I... will you forgive me if I break it?"

Of course you would. You weren't expecting it to last forever, and besides you can just get him a new one. As many as he wants. You chirr at him to say so, and he lets out a sigh, relaxing slightly.

"That's good, because I dropped it earlier and I didn't want to, you know, _offend_ you or anything-"

He keeps going, sounding more like his usual self instead of the beaten down man you'd heard earlier, and you can't help but smile as you listen to him talk and talk and laugh and grin. Things still aren't perfect, you know they can't fall into place overnight, but you're here for him and that's what matters.

And tomorrow you're going to march into Human Resources and tell them you're taking a day off. It's Christmas, you've earned it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Invisible](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n9_gWiwAWrA) by Linkin Park, because it's reminded me of these two dorks since mid-May when I first heard it.
> 
> ...That was actually the inspiration. Had Invisible stuck in my head, wanted to write fluff, and ub3r-b0t said I should make a sequel to winterfic so I did.


End file.
